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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888394">Memoir</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlueThorne'>BlueThorne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dadgil Week (Devil May Cry), Gen, Humor, POV First Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:02:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlueThorne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-DMC5; Nero and Vergil each know a very different Sparda, so they end up comparing notes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Memoir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love Sparda as the biggest nerd of all time, but the Order wasn't about to put that in their Bible. Here's my day 4 Dadgil Week piece for the prompts "memories," "stories," and "old vs new."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I never knew what to brace myself for when Nero approached me. My first instinct was always to prepare for a fight, readying myself for his sword or his fist to take a swing toward my face. Somehow, that was rarely the result. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At times, he’d appear with a towel draped over one shoulder and would tell me that dinner was ready. Other times it would be a simple, “We just got a call about some demons nearby. Do you want to tag along?” Perhaps the most noteworthy event had been him asking if I could help with changing a tire on the van because, as he said, “Last time we let Dante help, he broke the jack, and his foot was in a bad spot, and- Look, it was just gross. I don’t want to go through that again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for him, I had no idea how to change a tire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing he did not approach me for was conversation. At least, not the casual sort. We spoke more like business acquaintances than family, so when I found it to be just the two of us alone in Dante’s foul business place, having Nero come over and sit beside me on the ratty couch made the air feel thick with tension. I would have preferred he start a fight. One would have been less strenuous than sitting there waiting for him to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the corner of my eye, I could tell he was struggling just as I was. He stared at his fidgeting hands and opened his mouth to silence more than once before the question tumbled from him. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asking that was already asking something, but I nodded an encouragement for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, so, could Sparda actually lift absurdly heavy stuff, like, two trees at once and stuff like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hadn’t known what to expect, perhaps something accusatory or profound. Instead, I was left staring in bafflement at Nero’s flustered attempts to avert his gaze. “Alright,” I managed just as I thought he might lean so far away from me that he would tumble off the couch. “So, first off, the answer to that question is that I’m unsure if he could lift two at once. I would consider it likely, though I only ever saw him pick up one. Second, why…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was, uh- It was in the Order’s holy texts.” I’d never seen him so embarrassed, or even embarrassed at all. Not even Dante’s antics had ever drawn such anxiety from him. “Just wanted to know if any of it was true. I used to think all of it was fake, that Sparda wasn’t even real. Since it turns out he was and that he was my grandfather-” He took a deep, shaking breath. “I wanted to know if anything else written about him was true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In some ways “Sparda” had always felt separate from my father. Sparda was the legend, the powerful demon so many feared and hated. My father was just some strange but adoring fool whom I’d lost so long ago. Nero had never known my father. He’d only ever known Sparda, and that simply wasn’t a complete picture. For anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared what they thought of my father, but with Nero, my son, it seemed wrong for his only understanding to come from the exaggerated texts of the island that had obsessed over the legend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he have horns all the time?” Nero continued before I could attempt to arrange my thoughts into words. “He had horns in all the statues.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he only had them in his demon form. He remained in his human form at most times, though it was a false appearance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but did his horns do that hook like the statues?” he mimed the shape with a flick of his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I saw him accidentally catch them on branches on more than one occasion. Also a coathanger once.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows shot up, eyes wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel I should be honest with you,” I said. “Though many of the stories from your texts are likely true, it’s important that you understand - my father was actually quite bad at many things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like… like what?” Judging from the shock slowly overtaking Nero’s expression, I may have broken him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he was a bit of a klutz as I mentioned before. His eyesight was not the best, and he tended to run into things. His sense of fashion was, shall I say, a bit much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than yours?” Nero’s eyes narrowed. “More than Dante’s?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, more so than both of us, but I can’t deny I know where our love of the dramatics came from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The absurdity of the situation was starting to break through to Nero, a smile fighting its way to his lips. “Okay, the Order’s texts said he could speak a bunch of languages. Was that true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could, yes, but I think he was bad at just about all of them. His sentences would run away from him. He’d forget a word and mix it up with another, or he’d just make up bizarre approximations to try and explain what he was aiming for. For instance, I remember a time that he described his own monocle as ‘the shiny eyeball helper.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had a monocle?” Nero whispered more to himself than me. He’d leaned over, a hand against his forehead seeming to be the only thing keeping him upright. A bewildered grin was stuck on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes," I said whether he wanted an answer or not. "He almost always wore it, though, I could not tell you why. I don’t think it did anything for his sight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nero wheezed out a laugh before holding up his hand. “Okay, wait, there’s another one I have to ask about. Did he hate guns?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, absolutely not. He had two much like Dante’s. They were named, and he doted on them like another set of children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha! I knew it!” Nero’s eyes shined with triumph. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely the text does not say he hated guns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t,” though Nero still wore a wicked grin about it, “but the Order was all obsessed with copying him and only using swords, and they hated that I managed to get myself a gun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father loved anything loud and flashy,” I admitted with a shrug. “I have no doubts he would have liked not only that absurd gun of yours but also that obnoxious sword.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, my absurd gun and obnoxious sword kicked your ass, so I’m sure he would have been plenty proud.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the insult, he managed to draw a soft laugh from me. “You know, I believe he would have been. I’m certain your texts mentioned nothing of the sort, but he was very affectionate toward us. He was supposed to be the most notorious demon in history, but he was always the one dragging us into a hug or telling us how well we’d done at useless childhood tasks. I think he just liked having a family, and I think… he would have adored you in much the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air fell silent, but I didn’t find as much discomfort in it as I had before. I had thought that remembering my father would have stopped being painful at some point, but even then, my chest ached. Dante had always been so furious that Father had left us. I wished I could have felt the same if only to ease the pain of looking back on memories of him with fondness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could have met him,” Nero mumbled, once more staring at his fidgeting hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you could have too.” Because my father would have known how to show Nero the love and affection that I could not. Because he would have had no reservations in hugging Nero close and saying “I missed you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d inherited many of his strengths, but his kindness was not one of them. It must have skipped me and gone to my son, who turned to me with another attempt at a smile. “If you ever want to talk about him more, uh, I have lots more legends to ask about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, if you’d like, we can go through them.” A smile twitched at the corners of my lips in return. “I certainly have more stories to tell.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Capcom needs to stop being cagey about whether Sparda's dead. Give him to me in 6, or give me a DMC0 where he's the protag, dammit.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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